


Call From Home

by redfiona



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Community: 50kinkyways, M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:19:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2384801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redfiona/pseuds/redfiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He'd never thought he'd do something like this, always thought that if he had the urge, he'd go find a rat, but he missed Mark like crazy and it had to be him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Call From Home

**Author's Note:**

> For those that don’t watch wrestling, this is [ Randy Orton](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/redfiona99/randyortonwallpaper2.jpg) and this is [ Mark Jindrak](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v11/redfiona99/jindrak.jpg)

Randy felt like an idiot. He'd never thought he'd do something like this. He knew that the killer in long-distance relationships was missing someone, missing them being there, missing being there with them. And he thought he could cope with that. But sex was different, it was one of those things that was just better with another person. He and Mark had discussed this, pretended they were adults for a while, and agreed, that since Mark would be in Mexico and Randy would be wherever the WWE circus rolled into, and because they were men in their primes (for which, read horny like clockwork), and men of the world, that they'd be sensible about this and if either of them felt so inclined, they were both entitled to do what they wanted with ring rats and they wouldn't ask and they wouldn't complain.

And that should have fixed the problem.

Only it didn't. Nothing against any of the girls, they were all pretty and available and willing, but something was missing. Mark.

So they'd talked some more and they'd slowly come round to doing this.

“I feel ridiculous.” Randy was trying to get comfortable on the bed and keep his phone near his ear.

“That’s because you are ridiculous.” This was all Mark’s fault, Mark and the shitty internet he had, too many hills or something, so they couldn’t do this over Skype, which Randy had hoped would be less stupid because he could put his laptop on his bedside table and leave his hands free. He wouldn’t be holding his phone to his left ear with his shoulder because the speaker function on it was shitty.

And of course Mark was laughing at him. "Hey!"

"Sorry dude, you kinda left yourself open to that one." There was the sound of shuffling on the other end of the phone, as though Mark was trying to make himself more comfortable. "So, what are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

"You know I really don't think you're getting into the spirit of this."

Mark might have had a point. "Well what are you wearing?"

"Sweatpants." Talk about questions that didn't need asking. Outside the ring, Mark only seemed to have two kinds of clothes - sweatpants and suits that didn't fit right.

"Can't we imagine that I'm at home, bored, ready and waiting for you?"

"I can work with that." It wasn't too much of a stretch, even before Mark had gone to Mexico, they'd been on different shows, having to catch any moment they could.

"So, what would you do with me?"

Mark imagined going home to find Randy waiting for him. There was one thing, if Mark were coming home today, he would have been in a far better mood than he had been those last few months in the US. There was less bullshit in Mexico, or maybe it was just a different kind and he hadn't noticed it yet. Coming home to Randy would be nice though. "I come through the front door, put my bags down and I wonder where you are."

"You come up the stairs, because you think I'm probably asleep," because that had happened often enough. "Only I'm not. I'm lying on the bed, ready and waiting for you."

Mark didn't know if it was doing anything for Randy but that was something that Mark was enjoying imagining. He suspected that he was supposed to be adding something other than heavy breathing to this. "So you're on your hands and knees on the bed."

"Yeah." Mark's voice going thick and husky got to Randy.

"I climb up behind you and I kiss you between the shoulder blades, all the way down. You start to grind back, and I start to get hard," Randy took his dick in hand, gently, and stroked the bottom of it. "What do you want to do next?"

Randy could imagine the situation perfectly. He'd turn around and he'd feel his way up Mark's dick, gently tugging Mark's sweatpants down, just a little, so that the head of Mark's dick peeped over the top. Then he'd get to work, sucking and stroking Mark's dick, and slowly revealing more of it.

"Randy?"

Oh yeah, words were needed. "I was imagining slowly sucking you off while I'm jacking you off." He'd turned up the volume on his phone so he could lay it on the bed and still be able to hear Mark, leaving his hands free. He was just going to have to accept the fuzzy sound and occasional bit of distortion and feedback.

"Uh-huh."

"Of course, I'm not gonna let you come." Mark liked his use of the word let, as though Randy had much of a say in the matter. "I'm gonna get your dick all slick and then I'm gonna let you stick it in me."

Everything Mark said next was filthy. Randy was doing his best to recreate what was being said with his own hands, but it wasn't the same. Randy ran the back of his hand along the underside of his shaft to try and make it feel like there was someone else there. It didn't work, it didn't feel bad, but it just wasn't as good.

He came anyway, Mark knew what he was doing even over the phone, telling Randy to do those things that tended to drive him wild no matter what.

Randy lay there, curled round his phone; he knew exactly how pathetic that was but he couldn't help it. Randy wasn't normally one of those guys that got down after he'd blown his load, but this time he really did. He supposed it was the combination of circumstances, but right now he missed the way Mark would shuffle down the bed to get comfortable and would just lie there, stupidly happy, for a while afterwards.

"'You alright?" Mark must have guessed that something wasn't right. Normally Mark would have drawn his thumb around the outside of Randy’s ear as he said it, and then thrown his arm over Randy's shoulder.

"I'm fine." Which was what he always said. He still would have liked to have Mark there so he could have shrugged the arm off his shoulder not that that ever stopped Mark from putting it back. "Just, you know, adjusting, and stuff."

He wasn't selfish enough to tell Mark that he missed him, Mark knew that anyway. He supposed that there was a different, egotistic, kind of selfishness to them, to think they could have it all. Because he couldn't see why Mark couldn't be a world champion but he knew it would be with them, because he'd known Hunter for long enough to know that he wasn't going to change his mind and Mexico offered the best chance for Mark to be a star. At the same time, he wanted there to be a them. And if that was going to happen he was just going to have to suck it up and deal.

"Yeah, I thought I could hear your brain frying from the thinking. And I can hear you giving me the finger."

That only made Randy do it again. But at least they were both laughing now, which was good since even Mark hadn't sounded like his usual happy post-sex self.

"Hey Randy, don't sweat it." He could almost feel the accompanying arm over his shoulder from Mark. "You're coming down in a few weeks. We'll be alright."

"Yeah, I think we will." Randy wonders if this was what growing up was, because even a year ago, he would have thrown a tantrum, and either demanded that Mark come back or just thrown in the towel and split up with him. It was going to be difficult, but he thought it was worth it.  



End file.
